Hoax
by Kelsey Layne
Summary: Darien plays a practical joke of Hobbs


Title: Hoax ©Abbie Layne by Abbie Layne  
  
Author's note: Yeah, I know, the Lone Gunmen live in D.C and Invisible Man takes place in who-knows-where, so geographically this story probably wouldn't take place. But hey, as Darien points out, I have a right to a little poetic license.  
  
Hoax  
  
Time is slowing. A gigantic thunder storm is threatening outside. And there is a chill in the air. Tonight is an ill-fated night. Well, alright, so the night's not so creepy as that. There is a thunderstorm headed in from the west. But, come on, you gotta give me a little poetic license. I have a right to use my imagination as I see fit. The bit about an ill-fated night? Yeah, well, that wasn't too far from the truth either, at least for last night. Last night was All Hallow's Eve, or, in layman's terms, Halloween. I'm not in to all that hocus-pocus, bibity-bobity-boo, looney-tunes stuff, but Bobby was on edge all day after he read his horoscope yesterday morning. I don't get the guy when he's like that. Yeah, sure, he is usually jumpy, and paranoid, and cuckoo, and...I'll just leave it at that. The reason I know it was bogus, was because it was all a part of my greater plan. A little scheme I had cooked up for good-ol' Hobbsie. I got a hold of his paper yesterday morning and replaced it with a fake that a couple of my buddies did up. Thanks to their cunning wit, the Keeper and Official, I've got a sweet little prank set up.  
  
October 30 9:35PM ñHope this does,î Langly handed Darien the newspaper. ñMan, I can't wait to see this guy's face.î ñI don't see the use in your childish prank, Darien.î ñShut up, Byers,î Frohike said. ñNuthin's wrong with a prank; unless this guy pulls a gun on you.î ñTaken care of. I've already filled his gun with paint pellets.î ñYou're going to give the man a heart-attack,î Byer's pointed out. ñHey, I just see it as pay-back for the many times he's almost killed me.î  
  
October 31 9:50AM ñHey, Fawkes, did I see you at my place this morning?î ñCome to think of it-no.î ñYou sure?î ñThink about it, Bobby. If I'd been at your place you wouldn't have seen me.î ñYeah, guess you're right. Probably just some kids stakin' places out to trash tonight.î Bobby sat down and opened up his paper. Darien heard him take in a sharp breath. ñSomethin' wrong?î ñWhat?î Bobby peered carefully over his paper. ñUh, yeah, I'm cool, I'm great. Nothin' wrong.î He folded the paper up and stood, dropping the paper in the trash can. ñI-I'm uh, I'm gonna go talk to the Keep.î He dodged out the door. Darien smiled, satisfied with himself.  
  
11:07AM ñHere you go, Darien.î The Keeper handed him a contact case. He opened it and looked at the red lenses. ñThanks, Claire. Have you seen Bobby around?î ñNot for a couple hours. He was in earlier making sure I was still going to your party, making sure I would bring some Counteragent, just in case, you know. I think he might be with the official now, though.î ñThanks.î  
  
11:16AM Darien slammed open the Official's office door. Bobby jumped out of his seat and took Ebert'splace behind the Official. ñFawkes, do not slam the door!î ñSorry, boss. Hey, Hobbs, been looking for you.î Bobby squinted, looking at Darien. ñWhat color are your eyes?î ñBrown, what color are yours?î ñYou know what I mean.î ñThe Keeper just gave me a shot.î ñYou're not scheduled for a shot today,î the Official said. ñI know, but the gland's been acting up the past couple days. I've got a huge headache and my tattoo isn't staying completely green.î ñYou think this will cause a problem?î ñNah, I think it's just somethin' to do with the full moon tonight. Like the Chaos Theory, ya know?î ñWell, whatever it is, keep in check with the Keeper till you feel better.î ñYeah,î Bobby spoke up. ñMaybe you should cancel your party tonight.î ñNo,î the Official said. ñI'm looking forward to his party. I haven't seen any horror movies or been to a party in a long time.î  
  
1:48PM Darien starred at Bobby while he tried to work. ñStop it!î ñStop what?î  
  
ñWatching me.î ñI'm not watching you.î ñYes you are.î ñNo, I'm not.î ñYes-Just do something else. Go see the Keep.î ñI saw her half an hour ago.î ñSo see her again.î ñShe's busy.î ñDoing what?î ñShe's helping Eberts find a costume to go trick-or-treating with his nephew.î ñOh that sounds like fun. Maybe he could go as a nerd, then all he has to do is open his closet.î Darien grabbed his head and doubled over. ñFawkes? You okay?î Darien panted, ñYeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just a migraine or something. I think I'm gonna go home early, sleep this headache off for a couple hours. See ya later.î  
  
7:35PM ñHey, Bobby. Come on in,î Darien opened the door. ñClaire and the Official here?î ñShe's in the kitchen. The Official had to cancel. But hey, you're here. Now the Hitchcock marathon can begin.î ñHello, Bobby,î Claire said coming into the room. ñI'm sorry, but I was just paged. I have to go.î ñNo! I-I mean, let someone else take care of whatever.î ñSorry, Bobby, but it's something only I specifically can take care of.î She picked up her coat and purse. ñHow about a rain-check?î ñYeah, sure, whatever.î ñAlright then, goodbye, boys.î  
  
9:37PM ñOkay, you want Birds or Vertigo next?î ñWhatever,î bobby said uncertain of the question. He hadn't even paid attention to the last movie. His mind was completely on a quick escape if the need came.î ñThen Birds. I'm gonna go get some more food. You want?î ñNo.î Darien went into the kitchen and made some noise to sound like he was getting food. He put in the red contacts the Keeper had given him, grabbed a bag of chips and went back into the living room. He yelled and grabbed his head, falling to the floor. bobby jumped up and laced his hand on where his gun was under his jacket. ñWhat's wrong?î He looked up at bobby with a sinister smile. ñNothin's wrong, little man. In fact, I think I'm ready for a little fun.î He stood up and Bobby pulled his gun. ñI suggest you stay right there, Fawkes, while I call the Keeper. She'll bring over some Counteragent and you'll be just fine.î Darien took a step toward him. ñOh, but I am fine.î ñJust stay where you are! I will shoot you.î He held out his arms. ñMake sure you aim for my heart.î He took another step. ñI'm warnin' you!î Darien scoffed. ñYeah I think I got the point.î He took another step. bobby cocked his gun. One more step and he shot. Darien staggered, but still came toward him. Bobby fired off two more shots and Darien fell. He struggled to get up, glaring at Bobby, then fell silent. bobby dropped his gun and stared at the read splotches on Darien's shirt. someone knocked on the door. ñDarien? Bobby? Open up!î Bobby opened the door and Claire came in. ñWhat happened? I heard gun shots.î ñHe-he went-he went Quicksilver Mad. He forced me to shoot him.î She knelt over him. His eyes were red with the contacts she'd given him. Looking up at bobby she said, ñHe's dead.î She looked at his tattoo, it was fully red. ñOh, no.î ñWhat?î ñHe was Quicksilver Mad.î ñI know.î ñNo, he really was. This was all a prank he was playing on you, just pretending. but he really did go Quicksilver Mad, and you really shot him. With real bullets!î ñYou're kidding. You mean I could have killed him, even if he was still faking?î She nodded. ñI can't believe this. Poor Darien.î She looked back at him. A smile had formed on his lips and he opened his eyes. ñHello, Claire,î he said doing his best impression of Hannibal. ñDarien!î She slapped him. ñDon't you dare do that again. You idiot! I thought you were dead.î ñWell, hey, you could have checked my pulse.î ñI'm gonna kill you, Fawkes!î ñGuys, come on, it was just a joke.î ñWhat about your tattoo, tho? It's all read.î Darien licked his wrist off. ñMmm, ketchup.î ñYou-Oh, you're such an idiot!î  
  
November 2 8:50AM ñIt was so sweet! Claire really thought I was dead.î ñWell done. Thanks for the video, man.î ñGood prank. Maybe you can help us with one for a couple friends of ours sometime.î ñOkay, enough chit-chat,î Byers said. ñWe have a paper to work on. Nice seeing you, Darien. Come again, when you're invited.î He ushered him out the door before he could say anything.  
  
Okay, so, there you go. Hobbe's Night of Terror. It was so good. And hey, maybe Claire'll talk to me again eventually and bobby will stop grabbing his gun every time he sees me. At least I had my fun, though. They just need to lighten up a bit. 


End file.
